


The Sun Rising

by RosieTwiggs



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Thomas Hamilton is a giant sap in love, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/pseuds/RosieTwiggs
Summary: It’s like a revelation to Thomas and the room, impossibly, brightens even more.“Lieutenant James McGraw,” he says, sounding scandalized, and there it is, that marvelous shiver again. James’s eyes darken the slightest bit. “Are you telling me that you’re disappointed I didn’t fuck you last night?”James and Thomas have their first time the morning after their first time.





	The Sun Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HighSeasMarginalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighSeasMarginalia/gifts).



> This started as a cute fluffy ficlet and turned into 4k of dirty and extremely fluffy smut. I'm not sorry.

Thomas wakes up first.

Sunlight streams in through the window, bright and blinding and shining on the white sheets so that he has to squint for several moments until his eyes become accustomed to the brilliance of it all.

Tiny particles of dust float lazily through the warm light cutting across the bed, and the mattress is deliciously soft, the blankets wrapping him in downy comfort. Everything about him feels loose and relaxed and content.

There’s a soft sigh on his right and Thomas bites his lip, eyes falling shut as joy bubbles up inside of him, and his grin is as blinding as the sunlight as he shifts lightly in his cocoon of perfect serenity to watch James McGraw in repose.

Last night...

Last night had been more than he’d ever hoped for. Thomas’s eyes trace the edge of James’s jaw, the jaw that had tightened and held firm when James stood up to his father. Now, in addition to admiring the cut of it in that moment, he can overlay the memory of the sound James had made the first time he’d nipped him there. James’s shoulders, held straight and back in his naval uniform, lay bare and peppered with the marks of Thomas’s devotion. His lips are swollen from kissing and biting. Thomas wants to bite them again now, but not so badly he would wake him and disturb the holiness of this moment.

His quiet plea for James to  _stay, please stay_ , had resulted in questing hands, and murmured words of comfort and surprised cries of pleasure in the dark when they’d spilled together in Thomas’s hand. James had never been with a man.

Now, in the open light of morning, Thomas wonders how James will react. He fears it, a little, but everything about James looks soft and peaceful. The rage that always burns just beneath the surface of him, ready to be called to attention, is sleeping more deeply than Thomas’s new lover.

Lover...

Thomas has been with many men, but never before one he’s loved like this.

It’s impossible not to touch him again, so Thomas gives in, trailing fingers up along his arms. Even in sleep, those muscles... God those muscles. Thomas imagines what James could do to him with those arms, how he could lift him up against the wall and ravish him, and barely break a sweat.

And the freckles.

Last night, even with the candlelight, the full extent of James McGraw’s freckles had been lost to the dark. The sheer  _volume_ of freckles is astounding. He’s simply covered in them, and Thomas is utterly enchanted!

His eyes dance as he realizes that it would take a lifetime to try and kiss each one separately.

He is suddenly desperate to try it anyway.

A hum stills his hand and Thomas looks up to find sleepy green eyes squinting and blinking at him.

Thomas watches the slow realization come over James, watches his eyes adjust to the light, widen as memory takes hold, watches a deep flush rise in his cheeks, and  _God_. Thomas is lost. He waits for the fear, the shame, the regret... he expects them, James is so...  _new_. 

And there  _is_ a moment of hesitation, but then-

“You’re... glowing.” His voice is rough with sleep and sex, but he sounds just the tiniest bit awed, and amazingly, Thomas feels the blush rise to his own cheeks. He ducks his head, feeling the heat, and marvels. It’s been years since anyone has made him blush.

“No,” James seems determined to explain. He turns slightly, his eyes moving over Thomas and to the window behind him. “You really are. The light…”

Thomas slides closer, watching James’s eyes widen and then go slightly crossed when Thomas presses their noses together. He wants to laugh, but he needs to know that James is not going to run from him, to bury last night away.

“Are you alright?” he whispers.

He sees James’s eyes focus on one of his own, then the other, shifting back and forth.

“Yes,” he answers, just as quietly.

Thomas’s eyes fall shut and he swallows, pushing his forehead gently against James’s.

“Are you here? With me?”

“ _Yes_.”

And as if to prove his point, James pushes back, turning them until Thomas is underneath him, and he can feel the beautiful weight of James’s hardness against his thigh.

Ah. He sees what James meant about the glowing.

With their positions almost reversed, the light catches in James’s hair, practically setting him ablaze. It creates a halo of light around his head and Thomas thinks, “ _I have fallen in love with an angel of war._ ”

He reaches up to hold James’s face in his hands, running his thumbs along his cheeks, once again focused on those freckles.

A furrow appears in James’s brow and Thomas is distracted.

“What? What is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“ _James_.”

He frowns. “Last night… I-“

And now Thomas is truly concerned. “Out with it, Lieutenant.”

He feels a shiver run through James at that and Thomas raises an eyebrow. Duly noted. But James’s partiality towards the title while in bed will have to wait for later.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

James falls silent again, but he looks like he’s collecting himself, trying to frame his thoughts into words, and Thomas lets him. “I know some of what passes between men when they… you know.”

Oh goodness, he is adorable. Thomas is going to have to break him of this innocence quite soon.

“Fuck?” he asks.

James swallows nervously.

“That isn’t what we – last night, I thought you would-“

It’s like a revelation to Thomas and the room, impossibly, brightens even more.

“Lieutenant James McGraw,” he says, sounding scandalized, and there it is, that marvelous shiver again. James’s eyes darken the slightest bit. “Are you telling me that you’re disappointed I didn’t fuck you last night?”

The flush from before is nothing to how James’s cheeks flame now, and he drops his head to Thomas’s shoulder with a groan.

“You’re a tease,” he states, and it isn’t a question.

“I cannot imagine you didn’t know that I would be.”

James bites down on his shoulder and Thomas grins.

But he becomes serious again almost immediately.

“James,” he says, his voice soft. “Look at me.”

Slowly, sullenly, James lifts his head. Thomas frowns up at him, trying to gauge what he finds in James’s eyes.

“Do you want me to?” he asks him finally.

To his credit, James gives it a moment of thought. Thomas sees him truly consider it, and then, slowly, he nods.

“Yes. Please.”

That please is so polite, so proper, Thomas thinks he might fall to pieces before they’ve even begun.

His heart might just beat out of his chest as he pulls James down with shaking hands to kiss him. And this? This he will never tire of. He cannot understand how he survived before last night, how he carried on in a world in which he did not know what it felt like to have James McGraw’s lips slide gently against his own, a world in which he had never heard the hum he makes when Thomas slips his tongue over James’s own. Who had he been yesterday before he knew what it felt like to know, with certainty, that James desired him?

He’d been no one.

He rolls them gently, moving against James, his body burning where skin touches skin, which is everywhere. James is stretched beneath him, a blank canvas waiting for Thomas to paint with broad strokes of devotion and love.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” Thomas murmurs softly against his lips? “Do you understand what I am going to do to you?”

James is breathing unevenly, his arousal evident. “Yes, Thomas,” he whispers back, and this time it’s Thomas who shivers.

He’s too hot beneath the covers, drenched as they are in sunlight, and Thomas throws off the blankets, moving down James’s body, kissing, sucking, worshipping every inch of him that he can.

When he reaches the glory that is James’s cock, standing as proudly at attention as James had stood when Thomas first met him, he licks a stripe up the length of him and James groans.

“Thomas, what are you – you can’t-“

Thomas doesn’t give him a chance to argue, he takes him into his mouth as deeply as he can.

James bucks his hips up, and Thomas almost has to pull away, but he manages to breathe through it, holding him gently in his mouth until James stills, panting, eyes screwed tightly shut and his hands clutching at the sheets.

He doesn’t want to drive James mad with lust. Not yet at least. For now, he simply wants to make him feel good.

He licks and sucks at him gently, letting James settle into this, into him, letting James sigh and drift. Thomas trails fingers gently up and down James’s thighs, up across his stomach. He wants him as relaxed as possible, and as ready for him as he can be.

“Thomas, you feel… your mouth…” James sighs, and Thomas can’t help his hum of delight, eliciting a parallel groan from above his head.

He pulls away, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along James’s hip, up his side, reaching past him for a pillow. He leans up and kisses James deeply.

When he pulls back James’s eyes are wide and startlingly green. “I – I can taste myself on your lips.”

“Mmm,” Thomas hums, placing one last peck on his lips. “But you cannot tell me you've never experienced that before?" James may never have been with a man, but Thomas finds it impossible to believe he's never had his cock sucked before.

"I... it feels different this time." His cheeks are a brilliant shade of red. "It feels different with you."

He cannot tease James about that. He will not. "Turn onto your stomach for me, please.”

James braces himself. He's working himself up to it, Thomas can tell. He gives a military nod, concise, short – God, Thomas loves this man – and rolls over. Thomas pulls his hips back and James freezes for a moment, but Thomas only props a pillow beneath him and James settles back down with a sigh, pillowing his head on his arms.

He lets his eyes roam over the utter perfection and splendor of the body before him. Once again, Thomas is captivated by smooth, pale skin, and hundreds of freckles, the product of a lifetime at sea out under the blinding sun. Light shines across James’s ass, round and firm and perfect. Thomas wants to bite into it, but not yet.

“Christ, you’re beautiful.”

James shifts slightly, and grumbles, “Not exactly what a naval officer expects to hear.”

“Yes, well, it’s the truth. You are, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful men I have ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re prettier,” James mumbles into his arms, bashful again if the flush spreading down the back of his neck is anything to go by, and Thomas bites back a grin.

He moves up the bed, setting a hand in the middle of James’s back, and suddenly he’s nervous. He’s done this many times before, and been on the receiving end as well, however…

He’s never been another man’s first before, and Thomas feels the enormity of what James is letting him do, trusting him to do. He swallows past a sudden lump in his throat, and breathes deeply, steadying himself.

“James,” he says, his voice low, “I want you to relax. I’m going to take care of you, and we’re going to go very slowly.”

James turns his head to look up at him and nods.

And then Thomas grins and shifts one leg over James’s back and sits on that perfect ass.

All the air leaves James in a rush and then he’s laughing, the movement bouncing Thomas around. “As I said before – tease!”

Thomas nods. “I fully acquiesce. And as I said before, you _must_ have known this.”

Then he digs his thumbs into James’s shoulder blades, kneading at the muscles there, and James makes an absolutely filthy sound. Thomas cock jumps in response and he smiles.

“Feels good?”

“Mmmmmm.”

He continues, shifting across James’s back, focusing on tension points, his neck, his shoulders, his lower back. Miranda does this for Thomas often, and by the time she’s done he’s generally turned to jelly in her hands.

He kneads lower, brushing over the top of James’s ass, and James sighs, a sound of such contentment that Thomas feels it radiating from him. He continues kneading the muscles there with one hand, while he reaches for the small bottle of oil he reserves in a cabinet next to the bed.

He pours some onto his hands, coating them and warming the oil before he continues massaging James’s lower back, and an even deeper groan escapes him at this new sensation.

“Good, good,” Thomas murmurs. He shifts down, spreading James’s legs slightly so he can sit in between them, and continues his exploration down the backs of James’s thighs, slowly down his calves, until he’s digging his fingers into the arches of James’s feet.

“ _God_ , Thomas, that feels-“ James can’t seem to finish the thought, just groans again.

Thomas thinks he might very much be in danger of being forced to massage James regularly after this. No great loss there, however, not when he gets to touch him like this.

He moves back up James’s legs, and finally begins to knead the muscles of his ass.

He’s shaking know, having done everything he can to ensure James is relaxed enough for him to begin preparing him in earnest.

Christ he’s terrified.

He leans down, placing a shaky kiss to the center of James’s back, and he feels the muscles twitch there.

“Thomas, are you alright?”

Thomas lets out a shaky laugh. “Yes darling, I’m fine. I just want this to feel good for you.”

A pause, and then – “Darling?”

The endearment had escaped him, but felt right. “Yes. Is – is that alright?”

James simply hums, sounding incredibly content.

Well then. Thomas spills more oil across his fingers, rests one hand across James’s lower back and finally slides his other fingers in between the cleft of his cheeks.

James’s sudden intake of breath stills Thomas’s hand for a moment, but then he groans and drops his forehead, hiding his face. That flush is remarkably useful, Thomas thinks. James is never going to be able to keep from letting Thomas know when he likes something.

He continues rubbing gently, circling James’s entrance, putting the slightest bit of pressure there without breaching him. James is panting in between his soft moans.

All the saints above, he is so responsive, and Thomas hasn’t even done anything yet.

He adds more oil, and then finally, so very slowly, pushes one finger against James’s entrance until he is suddenly past the outer rim of muscle and sinking slowly inside.

“ _Thomasss..._ ” James hisses, and Thomas swallows past his own arousal, past his sudden need to go faster, to feel that tightness around his own cock.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, rubbing his lower back in soothing circles. James is so very tight, it seems impossible to Thomas he’ll ever be able to stretch him enough to take more than a finger.

He works him slowly, gently, adding more oil when needed. The muscles in James’s back ripple as they tighten and release with Thomas’s movements, and when Thomas thinks James is a ready, he adds a second finger.

“Fuck!” James bites out into the crook of his arm and Thomas freezes.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to stop?”

James shakes his head emphatically. “No – no I just…” He’s shaking. “Oh, God.”

Thomas is contemplating giving up. It’s too much at once - they can do this in stages. But then James begins rutting lightly against the bed and – _Christ_ – he’s fucking himself lightly on Thomas’s fingers, barely able to move in this position, but circling his hips just enough to get more friction.

“Jesus,” Thomas mutters, his own cock twitching in response.

“Thomas, _please_.”

Never, for as long as he lives, will he forget what James sounds like in that moment. Broken, needy, desperate for him.

Thomas moves his fingers, watching with fascination at how easily they begin to slide into James, at how James cants his hips to get more. Thomas presses down on James’s lower back and crooks his fingers, searching, feeling for – ah _there_.

James’s scream is muffled in his arms, and he cries out once again when Thomas brushes against that bundle of nerves a second time.

“Thomas, _Thomas_ , oh God…”

And now he has him, he’s not going to let him escape the pleasure. Thomas slides in a third finger, not roughly, but not too gently either, and James hisses and bucks his hips again.

The noises James is making. Fuck, the _sounds_ spilling from his lips…

He stretches James’s hole, spreading his fingers, knowing even three won’t quite stretch him enough to take his cock, but determined to do the best he can.

James is practically whining when Thomas finally pulls away, wiping his fingers on the sheets, and spreading oil liberally over his own cock.

He’s shaking almost as hard as James is at this point, and he spreads his cheeks, entranced by how flushed and red and ready James is for him.

“James.” God, is that his voice? He sounds destroyed. He is destroyed, and he’ll never be whole again, not without James at his side. “James, please, can I – are you-“

“Do it,” James says through clenched teeth. “ _Please_ , fuck me.”

And it’s that shattered request, that delicious filth from James’s mouth, when he couldn’t even name the act before, couldn’t ask for what he wanted, that sets Thomas off. He guides himself to James entrance and pushes against the resistance he finds there until he’s breached him at last and begins to slide home.

James is griping the sheets, gasping in breaths. Thomas recalls his first time like this, the overwhelming sensations, the loss of himself in the endless waves of pleasure at being taken this way.

But Thomas is lost too. James is so tight – he knew he must be, he is a virgin in every sense of the word, regardless of what he’s done before, regardless of last night. This? This is wholly new, and his body has never been used in this way before.

The thought makes something burst in Thomas’s chest, and when he is finally seated fully inside of James, he cannot move for a moment, cannot breathe for the physical and emotional storm that has overtaken him, He is completely flush against James, his chest to James’s back, their legs tangled together. Thomas breathes slowly into James’s neck, shaking, kissing every bit of skin he can reach with his lips. He brings his hands up to grasp James’s in his own, and they both lie there, overcome for a moment, breathing through it together.

“Are you alright, darling?”

James nods. “Yes.” His voice is small, so soft. And then, “Please. Move, _please_.”

Thomas obliges, shifting and lifting his hips slightly, before gently pushing back in. James gasps and circles his hips.

“More.”

Thomas groans and lifts his own hips further this time, before sinking back into James again.

“ _More_.”

He can’t give him more spread out above him like he is, so Thomas gets up on his knees, pulling out completely in the process, reveling in the sound of James’s hiss at the loss, and spreads James’s legs further apart, settling in between them. He pulls gently at his hips, coaxing James up onto his knees, and finally gets a look at his cock.

“Fuck,” he states, the breath leaving him. James is flushed and hard, his cock weeping, and there’s already a mess on the sheets from where he’s been leaking as Thomas prepared him. “Look at you. You love my fingers and cock inside of you.”

James shivers but can’t seem to bring himself to speak.

Thomas doesn’t wait, he pushes forward, sinking into James’s tight heat once again. They both groan this time, and Thomas pulls out immediately and gets a slow, but steady rhythm going.

Somewhere outside, the bells of St. Agatha’s begin to ring, calling everyone to mass, and Thomas realizes with sudden clarity that it’s Sunday, God’s day.

He pushes his hips forward once again, the sound of James’s moans music to his ears.

They should be at church. All of polite society is, after all. But Thomas has not considered himself a part of polite society for quite some time. The room is hot with morning sunlight, the light shining across James’s freckles, and Thomas leans down, trying to kiss as many of them as he can, James’s body the only thing he plans to worship today.

He speeds up, drowning in the sound of the bells and James’s debauched cries as Thomas fucks him, and when he changes the angle just so, James’s next shout of pleasure is almost a scream.

He reaches around James’s his waist, taking hold of his leaking cock, so desperate for attention and pulls at it, once, twice, three times, and with a broken shout James is coming. Thomas feels him pulsing beneath his hand, clenching tightly around him, the heat of him impossible, delicious, destructive.

He speeds up even more, unable to control himself now, his own climax building at the base of his spine, and then James gives one final soft cry, like he can’t take any more pleasure, and Thomas shudders through his own release, fingers digging crescent moons into James hips, marks he will delight in kissing later on.

James’s arms give out and he collapses. The only thing still holding his hips up is Thomas’s grip.

Thomas swallows, his blood pounding in his ears.

“How are you? James?”

“Hngh.”

He laughs, shaking his head, shoulders still heaving with each breath. He can feel sweat dripping down his back, can see similar moisture beading along James’s skin.

He waits until his own shaking stops, waits until he has softened slightly before pulling slowly out of James with a groan. James doesn’t even react, and Thomas maneuvers him onto his side, away from the mess he’s left on the bed, turning him to get a look at his lover’s face at last.

James’s eyes are closed, his breathing still heavy. Thomas leans down and presses a light kiss against his lips before standing, swaying a bit on his feet, to retrieve a cloth and dampen it with water from the pitcher on the sideboard.

He cleans James gently, moving the cloth over his stomach, his hands, his cock, and finally, carefully between his cheeks. James makes a small noise, but relaxes almost immediately and finally opens his eyes.

He looks drugged, and Thomas feels an intense sense of pride at managing to make him look that way.

He cleans up the bed and finally climbs in next to him.

“Hello.”

James’s grin is slow and blinding. “Hello.” His voice is rough and low.

The light coming in through the window is not quite so strong anymore, the patch of sunlight having drifted along the bed to stretch across their feet. Thomas trails his fingers over James’s chest and leans down to place a kiss directly over a particularly endearing patch of freckles.

“That was…” James shakes his head, apparently incapable of finding the words to describe what they had just shared. “Are _you_ alright?”

Thomas lets out a shaky breath. “Yes. More than alright. James – I-“ he has to bite back the words he wants to say. It seems too early, this thing between them still too new, too fragile.

He’ll have to settle for something else in the meanwhile.

He plays with James’s fingers, watching how their hands come together and pull apart, both trailing soft feather light touches across knuckles and wrists and palms.

He takes a soft breath and murmurs:

_“Thou, sun, art half as happy as we,_

_In that the world's contracted thus._

_Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be_

_To warm the world, that's done in warming us._

_Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;_

_This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Title and poem from John Donne's "The Sun Rising".


End file.
